


Trust is Earned, Love is Free

by AlannaofRoses



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Brother Feels, Bruce Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Damian Wayne is Bad at Feelings, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Gen, Hurt Dick Grayson, Poison, Stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-07
Updated: 2019-09-07
Packaged: 2020-10-11 13:57:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20547284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlannaofRoses/pseuds/AlannaofRoses
Summary: Damian Wayne can't seem to please his father. He's trying to adjust to being Robin to Bruce's Batman, but it's hard. When father and son clash yet again, its Dick who pays the price for their inability to trust each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RogueofShadows](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RogueofShadows/gifts).

“Robin!” Bruce snapped.

Damian startled, barely ducking a swinging fist. Batman and Robin were fighting a bunch of thugs. It was yet another simple drug bust. The third this week. Damian was getting really tired of being treated with kid gloves. 

It was painfully obvious that Bruce, who had picked the Batman mantle back up only a month ago, didn’t trust his new sidekick.

“What?” Damian snapped back, taking out the guy who’d swung at him. He didn’t really need Batman to explain. It would be the same as always. Damian was too violent, to rough on their foes. Bruce had only brought it up a hundred times. 

Dick had understood. Dick had started him from an assassin, trained to use lethal force first and only. Over time, and with careful retraining, Damian had learned to temper his fighting style. He hadn’t killed anyone during Dick’s tenure as Batman. He’d figured out how to pull his punches, how to use his sword as a debilitation tool, not a death machine. Dick had always been proud of him, encouraging him as he learned a whole new way to fight.

Bruce never seemed to see that. All Bruce saw was a kid with a sword. Bruce looked at him and saw a weapon. He didn’t realize that every time Damian fought he was also fighting his own nature, his own instincts. He didn’t know how hard it was to follow the rules, and how hard Damian tried to follow them anyway.

He’d never be enough. 

Damian pulled his punches even further, trying to do the minimum possible damage while still taking the guys down quickly. 

“Watch your left!” Nightwing called, flipping into the fight as graceful as ever, taking out two of the thugs as he landed. 

Damian allowed himself a quick grin at his brother’s arrival. After a few days reacquainting himself with Bludhaven, Dick had returned to the manor to help the new Dynamic Duo out while they acclimatized. While Damian was thrilled to have his brother around, it had ratcheted up the tension at the manor by quite a bit. 

Sometimes, after patrol, Damian would be sent straight to bed. Those were the night he could hear Dick and Bruce screaming at each other in the cave. He was pretty sure their fights were about him. About Robin. 

Dick had tried his best to be normal and happy for Damian, but it was obvious something was bothering him. He seemed continually upset with Bruce. At least he was sleeping and eating again. Those last few months as Batman had seemed determined to drive Dick to an early grave.

“Robin!” Bruce again. Seriously? Damian was trying here. 

But this time Bruce’s call hadn’t been anger, but warning. 

Damian’s eyes widened as he saw the knife coming. It was one of his guys. He’d obviously switched from hitting too hard to not hard enough. Now he’d pay for it.

He braced for the pain.

It never came. 

A flash of blue darted between Damian’s chest and the jagged blade. Dick grunted as steel tore into his hip before he knocked the thug down with a solid uppercut.

“Nightwing!” Batman and Robin called out at the same time. Dick waved them off, regaining his balance and helping to finish the fight. They mopped up quickly, and soon the rest of their foes were down and zip-tied for the cops. 

“Let me see.” Bruce stalked towards them, the cape flaring dramatically behind him.

Dick displayed the wound, but shrugged. “It’s not deep, B.” I’ll need some stitches, and I’ll probably limp around for a few days, but it’s not bad.”

Bruce hummed, seeming to agree with Dick’s assessment. Satisfied his eldest wasn’t bleeding out, he turned on his youngest. “Robin.”

Damian set his jaw at Bruce’s tone.

“Get back to the Batmobile. We will discuss your actions tonight later.”

“Hey.” Dick took a step towards them, then hissed lightly as he put too much weight on his injured side. “B, go easy on the kid. It wasn’t his fault.”

“If he had been paying attention, you wouldn’t have had to take that knife.”

“It wasn’t his fault, B…”

“He was distracted…”

“IT WAS YOURS!”

Damian blinked in the sudden silence that fell after Dick’s shout. Dick was breathing hard, his body tense under the suit. Blood trickled slowly down his leg. 

Batman stood stock still, facing his eldest. “What?”

“You constantly criticize him. You make him doubt himself. He missed that guy because he wasn’t hitting hard enough. The guy was down but not out, and it came back to bite him.”

“He needs to learn…”

“HE COULD HAVE DIED!”

“Nightwing…”

“Is your code worth more… than… ungh.”

Damian turned to face his brother. “Nightwing?”

Dick was blinking slowly, shaking his head. “Uh… I was… oh. Crap.”

Dick sprawled bonelessly onto the roof. 

“Nightwing!” Bruce leapt forward, Damian a breath behind him as the man checked for Dick’s pulse. “He’s breathing, but unconscious. Call Alfred.” Batman ordered, scooping Dick into his arms.

Damian had to try his comm three times to connect, his hands were shaking so bad. It was his fault Dick was hurt. It hadn’t been that bad! “Alfred. Nightwing is down. We need medical ready at the cave.”

“Understood, Master Damian.” Alfred replied crisply. It steadied Damian just a bit.

They hurried to the car, Dick a limp doll in Batman’s hold. Damian’s heart thundered in his ears. He didn’t wait for Bruce to give orders, he just slid into the backseat and held his arms out for Dick. After a brief hesitation, Bruce laid Dick’s head in Damian’s lap and shut the door, pulling himself into the front seat and taking off.

Damian brushed Dick’s hair from his sweaty forehead, feeling heat radiating off his skin. Something had gone very wrong. It was all his fault.

Alfred was waiting as soon as the car stopped, and before Damian could even process that they had arrived Dick was pulled away from him and being rushed to the medbay. He climbed from the car on numb legs, pulling off his mask as he went. 

Bruce was setting up the IV stand, his cowl pulled back as he worked. Alfred was bent over the wound.

“What’s wrong with him?” Damian croaked. Dick had been fine, he’d said he was fine…

“Poison, Master Damian.” Alfred said. He motioned to Bruce. “Inject a vial of antidote #16 into the line, please.”

Bruce moved to comply. Alfred took out a knife and a bottle of saline. “Master Damian, perhaps it is best if you went upstairs.”

Damian bit his lip. He wanted to stay with Dick, wanted it so badly it ached in his chest. But flushing wounds was never pleasant, and he doubted Alfred had given Dick any sedatives with the poison still raging in his system. Damian wasn’t sure he could bear to hear his brother scream tonight.

“Okay, Alfred.” 

The butler raised an eyebrow in surprise but Damian was already turning away. He stripped the rest of his costume in record time and headed for the manor.

He didn’t quite escape Dick’s first scream.

Alfred the Cat was stretched out on his bed. Damian picked him up, cuddling him close as he moved aimlessly around the room. He couldn’t help replaying the events of tonight. His distraction. The knife aimed for his heart. The flash of blue. Dick’s cry of pain. The way Dick had gone so frighteningly pale before he collapsed.

That scream, following him up from the cave.

He buried his face in Alfred’s fur. By the time he had regained control the animal was squirming, obviously done being held. Damian let him down and the cat scampered out the open door, darting over Bruce’s feet.

Damian looked away from his father.

“Damian.” Bruce looked exhausted. Having any of them in pain seemed to hurt him, but with Dick… Damian knew the feeling. 

“I’m sorry.” Damian kept his eyes on the floor. “I didn’t want Dick to get hurt. It was my fault. I’ll do better next time, I promise.”

Bruce sighed. “Damian… I. Dick was right. It was my fault.”

Damian looked up.

“I haven’t trusted you. And if I don’t trust you, how are you supposed to trust yourself? You missed that guy today because you were so focused on my approval you couldn’t spare enough attention for the fight. If Dick hadn’t stepped in, that much poison so close to your heart could have easily killed you.” Bruce’s voice cracked.

Damian stared at his father.

“What I’m trying to say, Damian, is that I’m sorry. You and Dick and Tim have all grown so much while I was gone. I guess it’s just taking me a while to figure that out. You aren’t the kid I left behind. I need to remember that. I need to trust you.”

Damian felt his eyes burning again. 

Bruce shifted uncomfortably, having most likely used up his quota of emotional availability for the month. “Get some sleep, Damian. Dick will be fine.”

Damian nodded. Bruce left, and he waited until his father’s footsteps had faded down the hall. Bruce had said Dick would be fine. Damian believed him, but he still needed to see. Some habits were hard to break, and after a traumatic event, it wasn’t yet Bruce who could comfort Damian.

He slipped down to the cave, checking to make sure Pennyworth had already left before creeping into the medbay. The monitors above Dick’s bed kept their steady rhythm, and something in Damian’s chest eased.

“Hey kiddo.” Dick’s voice was rough and hoarse from screaming. It was the most beautiful sound Damian had ever heard. “Come ‘ere.”

Damian complied, sidling up to the bed and taking Dick’s outstretched hand.

“You okay, Dami?”

“Tt. I am not the one who was stabbed and poisoned, Grayson.”

“Hmm. I’m glad.” Dick squeezed his hand.

“Thank you Grayson.” His eyes were hot and tight again.

Dick smiled gently at him. “Stay with me?”

Damian scrambled onto the bed without further urging, burying his face in Dick’s chest. He felt the soft stroke of Dick’s fingers through his hair.

“I love you so much kiddo.”

Damian just gripped him tighter.

Dick would know what he meant.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can thank lunerwerewolf for this unexpected chapter 2.

When Bruce made his way down to the Batcave the next morning to check on Dick, he was surprised to find both his eldest and youngest sons curled together on the medbay’s bed. It wasn’t news that Dick was a highly tactile and affectionate person, but Damian was a surprise. 

Bruce had been back in the cowl for a little over a month now, and he wasn’t sure his newest Robin would ever warm up to him. He’d been surprised, and yes, a little upset when he returned to find that Dick had made the boy Robin. Damian had been angry, unstable, and argumentative before Bruce had left. There was no way Bruce would have let him out on the streets like that.

But somehow, the boy had changed while Bruce was gone. There was still a stubborn arrogance that clung to Damian like a bad smell, but underneath his true nature had begun to peek out. 

Bruce suspected that was largely thanks to Dick.

There was a big part of Bruce that regretted leaving his children to manage without him, regretted the obvious hurt it had inflicted on the whole family to lose him. But a small part of him couldn’t help but think that it had turned out for the best, at least for Damian. What the boy had with Dick, their bond was something special.

Bruce had to admit he was often jealous. Like now, when Damian had sought out Dick’s comfort instead of Bruce’s after last night’s events. 

Bruce made a deliberate noise as he made his way through the cave, alerting his sons to his presence. Damian shot upright, his hair squished flat where it had been pressed against Dick’s chest. Dick, for his part, merely blinked sleepily at the boy before turning to offer Bruce a tired smile. 

“Hey B.”

“Heya chum.” Bruce stepped up to the cot, carefully ignoring Damian as the blushing boy tried to collect himself, obviously upset at being caught in a vulnerable position. “How are you feeling?”

Dick stretched carefully, testing his hip. “Hmm. Better. A little stiff, but the ache from the poison is gone. I could use some water though?”

Bruce picked up the cup Alfred had left out, straw thoughtfully included, and handed it over. Dick took a few long swallows and handed it back. Damian slid off the cot, standing awkwardly.

Dick turned to him. “Thanks for staying with me, Dami. I really appreciate it. Why don’t you go see if Alfred has breakfast ready?”

Bruce couldn’t help but admire Dick once again. In three sentences he had let Damian save face in front of Bruce by pretending Damian’s presence was all Dick’s idea, thanked him, and given him an out from an uncomfortable situation. 

And the boy took it graciously. “Don’t tear your stitches, Grayson, or Pennyworth won’t let you out for a week.”

“Ok kiddo.” Dick chuckled, watching him trot away.

Once Damian was out of earshot, Dick turned to look at Bruce. “What’s up, B?”

“Hnn?”

“Don’t give me that. Something’s bothering you. I told you, I’m fine. Alfred can confirm, all the poison’s out of my system, and the wound is just a regular stab wound now, it’ll heal in no time.” Dick cocked his head, and Bruce fought the urge to turn away from his scrutiny. “That’s not it, though, is it?”

“Hnnn.”

Dick closed his eyes for a moment, a gesture somewhere between exhaustion and utter frustration. 

“It’s Damian.”

Dick’s eyes flew open in surprise, watching him. 

Bruce shifted. “I don’t… think he likes me very much.”

“I know it’s been hard, adjusting to the new Robin, but if you just give him a chance to really show you…”

“No.” Bruce cut Dick off. “No, I don’t think _Damian_ likes me.”

“Oh.” Dick fell silent.

Bruce turned away, trying to think about the cases he needed to work.

“B.”

Bruce stopped, waited.

“Maybe you’re right.”

His chest felt tight, like someone was trying to squeeze his rib cage into a straw.

“But he wants to.”

Bruce blinked. “What?”

“Bruce.” Dick’s voice was gentle, and Bruce forced himself to turn to face him. “What you see, between me and him, it didn’t just happen, okay? You were gone for a long time B. I practically raised that kid from the time Talia dropped him on our doorstep. And I won’t lie to you. The first few months? They were hard. Damian had been expecting you, as Batman, as his father. He didn’t want me. I was the inadequate replacement, the protege unworthy of wearing your mantle.”

“Dick…”

“Let me finish. Yeah, it was hard at first, and there were times I never thought we’d be able to get along at all, much less be brothers. But you know what I did? I kept showing up. I kept telling Damian that I loved him, that I wanted him, not just as Robin but as my family. I showed him that your past doesn’t matter as much as your future, and then I let him choose his own path. But I made absolutely certain that he knew how much I wanted him to choose the path that included me.”

“And he did.”

Dick grinned. “Yeah. Eventually, he did. And he kept choosing it, every day. Just like I did. And I won’t lie, it’s probably gonna be harder for you two. You’re too alike you know. Neither of you are good at just saying the words you mean. But just keep choosing him. And let him know you want him to choose the path that includes you too.”

“It’s that easy?” Bruce snorted.

“It’s that hard.” Dick corrected, smiling. “But it’s worth it. He’s a great kid.”

Bruce reached out a hand and rested it on Dick’s dark curls. “You’re a great kid too, you know.”

Dick lunged forwards, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s middle and burying his head in Bruce’s solid chest. “I missed you, B. I love you.”

Bruce held him tighter. Dick would know what he meant.


End file.
